


Back to 1

by Marguerites



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Betrayal, Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Partner Betrayal, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marguerites/pseuds/Marguerites
Summary: Jeonghan’s voice still rings in his ears, replaying their phone call over and over until Jihoon can recite the exact words he’d used to tell him where Mingyu had been all this time. Who he’d been with.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25
Collections: Challenge 2: Betrayal





	Back to 1

Jihoon feels empty. Like all his thoughts and emotions have evaporated, filling the air of their apartment.

Jeonghan’s voice still rings in his ears, replaying their phone call over and over until Jihoon can recite the exact words he’d used to tell him where Mingyu had been all this time. Who he’d been with.

He doesn’t remember how long he’s been sitting there, but when he’d moved to the living room couch to take the call it had still been light out. He’d been blankly watching the colors of the winter sunset bounce off the freshly painted walls, watching as the daylight faded into the weaker glow of moonlight, the details of the room, the clock, disappearing into darkness.

It’s way past midnight, that much he knows. He’s been mindlessly counting the rhythmic ticks of the clock that cut through the stale silence of the apartment. It’s a sound he’d never paid much attention to, but now that he’s taken notice of it, it feels impossible to block out. So obvious he feels stupid for never noticing before.

When he loses track of how many seconds he’s counted, he starts over. He gets caught up on 23 again and again when his thoughts creep up on him, but he forces them down with a heavy swallow and starts again at 1. Prolonging.

As time goes on Jihoon grows fidgety, and he looks down at his hands, remembering how often Mingyu has complimented them. “I like your hands”, Mingyu had told him on one of their first dates, the tips of his ears and edges of his cheeks tinted red. Mingyu’s hand had inched closer to Jihoon’s, gently holding onto it, “they’re so pretty”.

On a night out not many dates later, Mingyu closer to drunk than tipsy with a flush down to his collarbones, he’d clumsily intertwined their fingers, giggling at how slender they were compared to his own, and moved closer to him, folding himself over to whisper in his ear. “I really like your hands”, he drawled, squeezing around Jihoon’s fingers, “they’d look pretty on my dick”.

Either way, Mingyu had always loved his hands, holding them, playing with his fingers. Sucking them into his mouth. 

Putting a ring on them.

It’s nauseating, knowing that Mingyu has touched someone else’s hands in the same way.

He doesn’t want to, but he keeps imagining someone else touching Mingyu. Someone else taking his clothes off, someone else’s lips on his, someone else in Mingyu’s embrace-

His thoughts get interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the lock, the door opening quietly and closing quickly.

The lights flicker on and Jihoon finally gets a read on the hands of the clock. Half past three.

If Mingyu wonders why Jihoon is sitting in the quiet darkness, he doesn’t ask, standing quietly by the entrance.

His nose and cheeks are red from the cold, his hair disheveled and covered in snowflakes, the wet spots on his face telling him they’d also landed there, but melted earlier. 

He’s beautiful. Always has been, but now it’s painful to look at his face, no matter how beautiful. Painful now that he knows where he’d gone, who he’d been with. 

Studying his face hurts, so he lets his eyes wander down, looking Mingyu over in his winter coat and the scarf Jihoon had given him for Christmas, wet patches on his shoulders and the folds of expensive fabric around his neck. He looks lower, eyes getting caught on the sliver of silver around his finger.

It’s a pair with Jihoon’s, they’d bought them together, for each other, and put them on the other after a ridiculously overpriced dinner, all the while giggling like a pair of teenagers in love for the first time.

And maybe they were, maybe they still are. But looking at the ring now, it feels like a sick joke. A prolonged prank Mingyu is finally going to reveal tonight after someone else spoiled the surprise, shouting “Gotcha” with a smile on his face. And as evil as that would be, Jihoon would laugh.

But he knows all of it was - and still is - genuine. Knows that calling each other the love of their lives and wanting to spend the rest of their lives together weren’t lies.

He looks down at his own ring, knows the years of wearing have left a permanent mark around the finger underneath, that even after taking it off it would still look like it was there. Knows that Mingyu’s would look just the same.

After all, Mingyu never takes his ring off. Not even when showering or sleeping, and when Mingyu’s hands would roam his body, they’d leave a searing trail, bringing Jihoon’s skin to a boil. But whenever the icy metal came in contact with his skin, it would ground him to the present, bring him back to reality, back to Mingyu. Mingyu and him.

He wonders if this is the time he finally takes it off, if he’d taken it off earlier and only put it on before coming home. 

He feels unbelievably stupid, more so with Mingyu standing on the other side of the room looking at him expectantly. As if he’s supposed to break the silence.

And he wants to. He wants to lash out at Mingyu, scream at him, punch him in the face or maybe his dick, take away his ring and flush it down the toilet.

But he doesn’t.

So they remain in silence, letting the clock continue counting the seconds on a timer to an explosion that just won’t happen. 

And just like that, just like every other night, they get ready for bed and lie down next to each other in silence.

“I love you.” Mingyu speaks into the dark, once again setting the timer back to 1.

Jihoon takes a breath that feels too long, like he might suffocate on it and on Mingyu’s words.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my best friend for beta reading this for me, I love you <3
> 
> This is my first fanfic on AO3, so I hope you enjoyed!  
> All comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> Also talk to me on Twitter @mingyusmanboobs :)


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